


it's all so dark

by bennybonny



Series: TF fics [5]
Category: Transformers: War for Cybertron
Genre: Dubious Science, M/M, Spark Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Survival Horror, and it works, drifting through space.... together, meg tries to strangle op
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25616344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennybonny/pseuds/bennybonny
Summary: What if, at the end of Seige, something goes wrong with the space bridge, and it blows everything up? What if the legend is true: and taking the Allspark off Cybertron really DOES kill the planet?Megatron ends up floating alone in the void.And it's dark, all of it. It's all so dark.But then he sees a light…-(mind the tags - this one's a tad bleak. i just finished watching siege, and for some reason, i was inspired to stay up the rest of the night writing a depression one-shot?? it's just megatron and optimus floating through space, talking, with their fuel running out slowly... that's literally it lol)
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Series: TF fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048837
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	it's all so dark

**Author's Note:**

> title is a reference to 'the three-body-problem' series by cixin liu, which i read recently, and which i completely blame for this fic lol

Taking the Allspark off Cybertron killed the planet.

Before the war, Megatron had wanted to win so he could fix things. That desire - it hadn’t lasted. He’d grown hungry for power since then, hungry for the control so long denied him. It had been within his grasp.

And then-

With a flick of his wrist, Prime had tossed the Allspark into the sky, and ended it all.

Megatron didn’t remember much from the actual explosion. Flashes - images - a hectic whirlwind of screaming and metal. Seekers had flown past, their mouths wide open holes of terror, trying in vain to clutch onto something, anything, to stop them getting dragged further up into the abyss, engines whining in vain. He’d seen them fall. All of them.

And he’d watched with faint detachment. Because deep down, he couldn’t shake this strange feeling - that _this wasn’t how it was meant to happen._ But why wouldn’t it happen like this?

Taking the Allspark off Cybertron killed the planet.

That was the legend.

And in _this universe,_ it turned out, the legend was true.

Megatron remembered having one thought, in the eye of that storm. He had but one thought, even as he himself was sucked into the black hole, and it was crystal clear.

He hoped Prime survived.

Because Megatron was going to kill him.

* * *

Taking the Allspark off Cybertron killed the planet.

So when Megatron came to, floating in the middle of nothing and nowhere, he was surrounded on all sides by the void.

There was nothing but empty space for company, nothing but the dread swell of his own thoughts. A terrible reality made itself known: that Prime had succeeded. He’d killed Cybertron, and everyone on it. Everyone, that is, except for his worst enemy - Megatron. The irony was bleak.

There was no help available. There was no-one coming to rescue him. Prime was certainly dead, and the rest of the Decepticons with him. Sooner or later, his fuel would run out, and then…

There was no-one there with him, but in the distance, Megatron thought he saw a glimmer of light.

It was impossible.

But in his literal darkest moment, alone but for his thoughts, Megatron had no choice but to contemplate the brief flicker.

* * *

When his fuel reserves were half-gone, Megatron saw the brief flash again.

He’d done some thinking since last he'd seen it, and had come to a couple of conclusions.

One, that without any hope of rescue, he’d have to scavenge an alternative source of fuel. The survival of the species had always rested upon his shoulders - but now, it was completely literal. Taking the Allspark off Cybertron had killed the planet. He, Megatron, was now the last Cybertronian. For the sake of survival, cannibalism might yet end up a ruthless necessity. If there were any corpses in this empty void with him, that would be most suitable. 

Yet a dead body did not give off light... so what was that brief flicker he'd glimpsed, out there in the distance?

The second conclusion Megatron had come to was regarding the nature of the empty space surrounding him. He knew now it was not accurate to call it a black hole. Rather, the lack of stars and gravity pointed towards a grim possibility: the Allspark had sucked the entire planet into a shadow dimension.

It was impossible to think he was inside a true black hole. Because of course, a true black hole was an incredible dense singularity of mass, so dense that not even light escaped its gravity.

And yet, out there in the distance, Megatron had glimpsed a brief light.

Therefore: it was a shadow dimension. In which Megatron was drifting, lost in space, with fuel reserves slowly dwindling… the reality was not much brighter.

The second flash of light came just as he was starting to doubt he’d seen the first.

The third and final conclusion Megatron came to was a grim one. In the cold darkness of space, untethered from Cybertron and utterly alone, he had to make ruthless choices. To propel himself in the void he would need to expend fuel. But if he did nothing he would simply die slowly anyway. His only hope was to accelerate towards the flash on the slight chance it was another survivor, and hope he was not hastening the approach of his demise. There was no way to stop in a vacuum, either, so he would need to expend fuel twice: once to propel himself in the right direction, and again to de-accelerate. He would need to get the calculations absolutely precise…

In the cold darkness of space, Megatron had to make a ruthless choice.

If that light _was_ another Cybertronian, he would need to scavenge their body for fuel to fill his reserves, or they would need to scavenge his. That was the name of the game: survival, at any cost. It could be a corpse.

But a dead body did not give off light.

With a brief burst of fuel expenditure acceleration, Megatron began to drift in the direction of the flash.

* * *

When he reached it, Megatron was almost dead.

The crash roused him from his hibernation - after a week-long journey of nothingness, he’d put himself in stasis to conserve fuel. He was groggy, and slow to wake, and had that light been anything different, it would have been the end of him right there.

But alas, he would not have the mercy of a quick death. For who else could possibly be foolish enough to save Megatron, but Optimus Prime?

When he woke up he fought desperately. A battle for survival in complete darkness. It was muted on both sides: Megatron trying to conserve energy, Prime trying to offer kindness. But it was still a desperate, quiet battle to the death. And Prime had the upper hand, as _he_ hadn’t spent fuel on a dangerous journey through space.

When the fighting fell still, it was because Megatron’s joints had locked up in the final stages of starvation. His body was getting ready for permanent stasis, by shutting down non-essential expenditure of fuel. He wanted to tell it to _keep fighting_ \- to drain his spark, if necessary! - but the instinct of survival overrode everything else. Megatron locked up, and fell still.

He drifted, wrapped in Prime’s embrace, still wheeling from the aggression of their struggle.

“I suppose you’ve won then, Prime.” Megatron said, held tight against Prime’s chest.

In the void of space, Prime couldn’t hear him. In the darkness, he couldn’t see him. But he knew it was Prime, and Prime knew it was him, because in years of battle they'd each learnt the movements of the other in complete familiarity.

They were the same in the darkness, just two survivors, lost in space. In the void, Prime couldn’t hear him. But as if he could, he clutched him tighter, painfully tight, as if he too was scared of losing the one other living thing in this cold abyss…

Megatron blacked out.

* * *

When he woke, Prime had made some adjustments to their drifting positions.

“What are you doing, Prime?”

The first surprise was that Prime could actually hear him: while he’d been unconscious, the other bot had linked up their comm units through means of an incredibly invasive procedure. Megatron huffed. Fall asleep on a bot for two seconds, and he compromises his moral code just so he can talk to you. For that reason, he showed mercy, and restrained from killing Optimus just yet.

The second surprise was that, if he wanted to, he _could_ offline him. Megatron could move again.

When he’d been in stasis, Prime had linked up his fuel systems to Megatron’s - he could actually feel the bite in his wrist, where Optimus had pulled out his cables and fused them with his own. Another entirely invasive procedure. Very dishonourable, very ruthless. Was Prime _sure_ he wasn’t a Decepticon?

“I’ve given you half my reserves.” Prime told him. “Now we’ll both survive a little longer.”

“Don’t be stupid, Prime. One of us has to die so the other can live. There isn’t enough fuel for two.”

“It’s my fuel. I’m free to do as I like with it.”

“Not if I tear out your spark, you’re not!”

Megatron reached his hands for where he thought Prime’s throat was, and tried to strangle him. The motion tugged dangerously at the fuel line still literally plugged into him, and after a moment, he had to stop for fear of killing them both. Prime, maddeningly, let him struggle.

“We tried it your way.” Prime said. “Now, we try mine.”

“You’re mad. I’ll tear out your spark for this.”

“Look around, Megatron! Haven’t you figured out where we are, yet? There’s no help coming. There’s no escape. It’s just us, together.”

“I hate you.”

“You can hate me if you like.” Prime sounded wracked with shame. “I knew, when I threw the Allspark into the spacebridge… I knew there was a chance this could happen. _Taking the Allspark off Cybertron killed the planet._ I knew the legend. However, admittedly, I did not forsee us all getting sucked into a black hole…”

“It would take an extreme leap of the imagination to predict an outcome _this_ grim.” Megatron remarked dryly.

“I knew. And yet, I made that choice. The Cybertron you made, Megatron, is not a civilisation I have any desire to preserve.”

“You’re mad. You’re as mad as I am, but in the other direction.”

“Perhaps.” Prime sighed.

“And you’re wrong, anyway. We’re not in a black hole.”

“Pettiness, Megatron, at a time like this?”

“I will not share the dimming of my life with a bot who _refuses_ to see the truth in front of his face.”

“Hmm. How damaged are your sensors?”

“Slag you. Thirteen-per-cent, and rising.”

“When the self-repair is finished, I advise you conduct a light experiment.” Prime laughed without humour. “ _’Light’._ A light experiment… it’s always about light, Megatron. It always was.”

“Cease speaking in riddles.”

“Forgive me.” Prime sighed. For a bot victorious, he sounded utterly crushed and defeated. “I’ll leave you with your thoughts.”

They drifted in utter silence through the utter crushing blackness. The harsh truth of their situation still remained: that one of them would have to die so that the other would live. The failure of their species was not an option. Even if it was a week more, even if it was a day more, even if it was an hour, one of them had to live longer than the other. A lot could happen in sixty minutes. Say, for example, drifting across a corpse in the darkness. Meaning the survivor could scavenge fuel, and survive just a little longer, just until the next corpse. Forever drifting just a little longer, just a little longer.

“What a revolting development this is.” Prime sighed.

“Silence, Autobot.”

In order to operate on him, Prime had chosen to keep Megatron close by wrapping his legs around his waist. It was a meaningless thing to focus on, at a time like this, and yet Megatron’s attention still drifted back to the tight pressure of Prime’s thighs on his hips. It was the darkness, that was all. The loneliness of losing his entire species, everything save his worst enemy. That was all.

That was the only reason he put an arm around Prime in return, and allowed the other bot to hug him close…

* * *

After a while, Megatron tried to kill Prime again.

And again.

With systems functionality slowly rising, each attempt came closer to success than the one before it. And as he grew stronger, Prime grew weaker. Megatron felt like a parasite leeching off the goodwill of his enemy - but so what? It was Prime’s foolishness to help him. He could have let him burn out, could have killed him at any point in the darkness. That he’d let him live despite his clear hostility showed a complete lack of awareness on the part of his enemy.

Such foolishness could not survive their harsh reality. For the good of the species, Megatron had to kill him.

Except the idiot Prime just _wouldn’t die._ It was that blasted fuel line. Whenever Megatron tried tugging too hard at it, the damn thing threatened to snap, and that would have them both bleeding out within minutes. He couldn’t actually reach farther than Prime’s chest without straining it dangerously, so unless he could somehow get at Prime’s spark, he wasn’t killing him anytime soon.

No. Instead they’d just _die together._ What a wonderful plan this was.

“Why.” Megatron finally asked. He said it with his head against Prime’s chest, so even if the comm didn’t send, at least the vibrations would dimly transmit.

Prime stirred from an energy conserving nap. “Hmm?”

“Why, Prime. Why save me?”

“We only have each other. Of course I’d save you.”

“All the more reason to _kill me,_ and save your fuel.”

“We need other people to live, Megatron. That you are alive right now because _my fuel runs through your veins_ \- that proves it.”

“It’s proof of your soft-heartedness. There’s no room for benevolence in this, this _shadow dimension.”_

“It’s a black hole.”

“It’s not a blasted black hole! A black hole is an incredibly dense singularity, a well of gravity so strong that not even light can escape. And yet light exists, here. Therefore: _shadow dimension.”_

Prime hummed gently to himself. “Did you run that ‘light experiment’?”

“No. Quit pestering me about it.”

“It’s always about light, Megatron.”

“Silence, Autobot.”

"It always was."

" _Shut up,_ Prime."

They spun through the darkness together like a pair of dancers. The last two Cybertronians were trapped together in the dead void. Black hole, or shadow dimension, it didn’t matter. The reality was the darkness of space, where even sworn enemies clutched each other close for fear of being the last, and alone…

“…Why is it about light?” Megatron asked.

“Because in our darkest hours, that’s what we reach out for.” Prime said.

Megatron grimaced in helpless grief.

There was no way to slow down in space. There was no friction of atmosphere. And so they orbited each other, falling on and on down into the abyss.

There was no one else. It was just them. Together.

Megatron gave up on the murder attempts. It just wasn’t worth it anymore.

* * *

Megatron’s sensors were at fifty per cent functionality, but the repair had gotten so slow as to almost be stopped, so he decided to try Prime's 'light experiment'. A _‘light’_ experiment, Prime had said. He’d emphasised the _'light'_ part quite clearly. That, coupled with his insistence that they were somehow trapped inside a _black hole -_ well, there was only one conclusion Megatron could draw.

But it was impossible.

Prime flickered groggily online, and watched as Megatron played around with the biolights in his open wrist. He flicked them on. He flicked them off again. He flicked them on. Every time he did so, he logged the speed in his processor, and Megatron had a high quality processing unit. So when the results came back, he knew it wasn’t anything wrong with _him._

No.

The lights were turning on slower than they should have been, given his processing response. It was no mechanical delay.

It was the _light itself_ that was travelling slower.

But that was impossible.

He told Prime as much, along with another accusation of madness, and sprinkled insults for good measure. When Prime finally came back to full awareness, he accepted Megatron’s vitriol with good humour, and even patted him on the back soothingly.

“It’s not possible to lower the speed of light.” Megatron kept saying. “It’s not possible.”

“I’m sure you know how faster-than-light travel works? The engines curve the space ahead of the spaceship, enabling it to leap vast distances-“

“Yes, but to encompass an entire _planet?”_

“It may be the entire system. We don’t know how powerful the Allspark was. The explosion could even yet be expanding-“

“Stop.” Megatron thumped the harsh edge of his helmet against Prime’s chest. It hurt to think. “Stop.”

“We can’t escape this place, Megatron.” Prime said, painfully gently. “Even if we came to the edge of the black hole, we wouldn’t be able to breach the event horizon. Our light comes too slow. There’s no help coming. There’s no escape. It’s just us, together.”

Megatron flicked the biolights in his wrist on and off and on again, wishing desperately that his sensors were lying to him.

When reality refused to change, a burst of red madness bloomed in his head.

He tried to push Prime away.

The struggle to the death began anew, but this time, Prime was the one trying to keep them both alive. Megatron’s mind had broken. He had no thought but to kill Prime. The person who’d doomed them both, who’d destroyed their planet, ended their civilisation. Megatron was glad he’d survived, so that he could kill him himself. If he was doomed, he’d gladly take his murderer down with him. It was better than dying alone.

He had the upper hand. He pushed Prime all the way apart, until only the tethered fuel line strung between their wrists was keeping them connected…

The red madness faded, and took with it warmth.

If he was doomed - if this was his darkest hour - Megatron was glad not to be alone.

In a heartbeat Prime gripped him desperately close once more.

The embrace did not feel loving. It felt painful, and desperate, and he was actually denting Megatron’s armour with the strength of his grip. The pain was fitting, in a way. Megatron did not want to spend the dimming of his life with a mech too weak to hurt him.

And so when Prime pulled him close once again, Megatron returned the desperation. A hand clawed at his back. He tugged at the bond linking their wrists. In darkness, in the crushing void, he reached out for a light.

He gripped the side of Prime’s face, and pulled him close. And Optimus flicked his mask away, and kissed him, painfully gently.

It was physical comfort, and nothing more. And yet why did Megatron's spark sing, as if in agony? Why did he bite Prime’s lip, not out of hostility, but out of tenderness? And why did Prime moan ever so faintly, and kiss him back, hot and wet?

Megatron didn’t know.

This second burst of madness also faded. He dropped his head back down against Prime’s chest, and once again, Prime embraced him. This close, Megatron almost thought he could feel the other bot shaking with laughter. But then he realised the shudders of Prime’s frame were not humour. It was something else. Prime was _sobbing._

In his darkest hour, Megatron reached out for a light - but in this place, the speed of light was too slow.

And his enemy held him close and cried for the sorrow of nearly losing him.

Megatron felt utterly irritated.

Only Prime.

* * *

There wasn’t much to think about in the void.

That was what Megatron told himself, transfixed as he was by the feeling of Prime’s thighs wrapped tight around his hips.

What made it hard to ignore was the way Prime seemed to feel it too.

Perhaps that kiss had awoken something in him. Maybe he, like Megatron, was clinging to the distraction of sensation. Their mutual fuel reserves had dropped below thirty per cent, into the danger zone, and the fact of their mortality was not a reality Megatron wished to dwell on. Whatever the reason, Optimus Prime was _fidgeting._

As a small experiment, Megatron shifted his waist, bucking ever so slightly into the Prime’s crotch.

He _jerked,_ and yelped.

This was quite an amusing distraction.

“Do you mind?” Prime said, with flustered irritation. “We haven’t the fuel to waste on such a pointless activity.”

“True. But a spark-overload, on the other hand, could actually give our systems a boost.”

“At the cost of our _lifespans.”_

“How much life have we got here, really? Why not hasten the end?”

“Megatron, I don’t understand. Where did all your talk of survival go? What about the species?”

“If we are truly trapped inside a black hole - if our light travels too slowly - then our species is already hopelessly doomed. Make no mistake, Optimus. This is not _surrender._ I will fight to the last second of my functioning, simply to live just a little bit longer. What do you fight for?”

Optimus was silent for a long while. And then he said, “I don’t want to die alone.”

Something in Megatron broke. He grabbed Optimus' head again, and the mask was gone, and he was kissing him hard. 

At the same time, he dragged his thigh up between Optimus’ legs, and revelled in the reaction it caused. Optimus buckled like he’d just been _electrocuted._ And really, hadn’t a part of Megatron always wanted to make him feel like this? Call it curiosity. Hadn’t a part of him always wondered what he sounded like, what he felt like, how he would react in the intimacy of the berth?

Prime groaned deeply. “Megatron...”

“Yes, Prime?”

“We can’t waste fuel.”

Megatron didn’t need to lean in to whisper, but he did it anyway. “Then bare your spark to me.”

“I can’t. You’ll kill me.”

“What would be the point of that? To survive a little longer in this crushing emptiness - what sane person would want that?”

“Megatron…”

“Let me in, Prime. Bare your spark to me. Show me-“ Megatron swallowed against a sudden, unexpected lump in his throat. And when he spoke his voice broke. “Please. Show me the light in the darkness.”

Prime gave in. His whole body slumped, all at once. And in the full knowledge of what he was doing, he pulled open his chest-plates, and bared his spark to Megatron.

After so long in the empty darkness, the light was blinding.

Megatron’s optics watered at the sight. That’s all it was - the shock of the brightness - that’s all it was. It wasn’t tears. He wasn’t crying. But just in case Prime thought otherwise, he leant in to kiss him again, and in doing so hid his face. The tears on their cheeks were all Optimus. Who was to say otherwise?

And as he kissed him, Megatron ground his hips into Prime. It was hard, without any traction, so he actually had to grip Prime by the thigh and simply _yank_ him closer. Not that Prime minded, based on the strangled noise he made. It was a shameful, desperate noise. As if Optimus hated himself for liking this so much. Megatron loved it. That wracked and tormented sound fed some dark hunger in him. A black hole in his gut, a well of depravity so dense that not even light could escape. He ground into Prime to feel that groan, to feed that hunger. He knew the movement of his enemy’s body like he knew his own. He knew when he’d be getting close.

And yet Megatron hesitated at the lip of Optimus Prime’s spark chamber. His fingertips danced over the rim - teasingly, almost - in a way that made the Prime gasp and drag his open mouthed kisses down the side of Megatron’s neck, achingly sweet. And yet still Megatron hesitated. He wanted to, he wanted to. And yet even though the dark hunger cried out to be filled, some part of him still hesitated, some part of him still held back.

Prime kissed the hollow of Megatron’s neck where his armour met his cables. And Megatron turned his head to nuzzle closer to Prime’s. The heat of his helm, the warmth of his body.

Megatron’s optics welled up, and he grimaced in helpless grief.

“Please.” Prime begged him, hoarsely. What could he possibly ask of _his enemy?_ Such foolishness could not be allowed to endure.

_“Why?”_ Megatron asked. It wasn’t begging. It wasn’t. It wasn’t.

In answer, Prime tugged open his chest-plates a little further. Megatron heard the crunch of metal as pure vibration, and it licked at that terrible hunger in him, and stoked it to blazing flames.

_“Please.”_ Prime repeated.

Megatron kissed him on the temple, just once, a brief and violent crush of the lips. And then he flicked open his chest-plates and joined them together.

* * *

Megatron didn’t remember much from the actual merge. Flashes - images - a hectic whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. As soon as their sparks met, Optimus’ eyes whited out in a flash of slow light, and in his comms - for Megatron alone - he'd let out a terribly vulnerable little sound. So helpless.

And Megatron had defeated him. The full on rush of blinding pleasure from their sparks was almost as sweet as this final victory: that Megatron had brought him to this point. Optimus had surrendered to him.

In the merge, the memories of their recent conversations rushed through him.

_“We need other people to live, Megatron. That you are alive right now because my fuel runs through your veins - that proves it.”_

_“It’s proof of your soft-heartedness. There’s no room for benevolence in this - this shadow dimension.”_

_“It’s a black hole.”_

_“It’s not a blasted black hole! A black hole is an incredibly dense singularity, a well of gravity so strong that not even light can escape. And yet light exists, here…”_

Of course, Optimus became aware of Megatron's grim intentions as soon as their sparks touched.

But rather than pull away, hegripped Megatron’s hips and jerked himself closer, further inside him, until Megatron was the one gasping. The strong shock of heat, hitting him over and over. Prime’s thoughts and feelings. All of them. All of them, all at once. So much light and love and _kindness -_ it was too much, it was intense.

He overloaded sharply, and with a groan, Prime tipped over the edge right behind him.

Of course, Optimus knew Megatron wanted to kill him.

He had known it from the very beginning.

And yet he’d opened his spark anyway, he’d kissed him anyway, he’d _made himself vulnerable._ He’d known what that foolishness would cost him. But he’d done it anyway.

Why?

Megatron didn’t know. Prime was as mad as him, but in the other direction.

“Why didn’t you stop fighting?” Megatron begged him. “Even to end the bloodshed. Why did you never surrender?”

“I never gave up hope. _I kept fighting_ \- to keep love in the universe. Even now, we’re both still fighting.”

“Even here, in a false black hole? You're mad.” Megatron said, and added peevishly. _“Slow light.”_

“Light, nevertheless.” Optimus said, “And light exists here, because we make it. The universe is dark and ruthless. But we can make our own light. Together.”

Megatron kissed him. He couldn’t help it. He was shaking uncontrollably, as if he was laughing, or something. “And what?” he asked. “Make a better universe? A bit late, isn’t it?”

“Forgive me. I was too slow.”

Megatron swallowed hard against that lump in his throat. “No. Forgive me, Optimus.”

Prime rubbed Megatron’s back, soothing his distress. “It’s all right. I’m glad I’m not lost in space on my own. It’s so disorienting. None of this feels real to me.”

“I know what you mean. Deep down, I have this strange feeling: that _this isn’t how it was meant to happen._ Forgive me, Optimus.”

“Once upon a time,” Optimus murmured. “On the planet Cybertron, intelligent robots who could think and feel filled the cities...”

“Quite the little drama, isn’t it, Prime?”

There was no reply.

“Optimus?”

Prime had fallen asleep in his arms.

For the sake of the love he pretended didn’t exist, Megatron made it quick.

He ripped his spark away and reached into the unprotected cavity in the same ruthless movement, and he made it quick. He strangled and squeezed the life out of Prime’s spark until it popped in his hand, the blistering hot liquid dribbling through his fingers, melting them, but he made it quick.

Megatron killed Optimus Prime, as he’d said he would, and he made it quick.

Because Alpha Trion help him, he didn’t want to savour it. He didn’t want to do it. He embraced Prime desperately as his life jerked to a grim close, and grimaced in soundless grief, because god help him, _if he had to do this,_ he would make it as quick and as painless as possible.

Even here, at the end, Prime had still won. He’d gotten what he wanted.

He hadn’t died alone.

Afterwards, Megatron drifted in the soundless black. It was the empty void of a black hole, sure, and yet his mind still lingered on the darkness in detached surprise. It was just so _dark,_ it almost didn't feel real. There was no escape, no help was coming. He was alone, and the last. His fuel reserves quickly pirated the excess fuel from Prime’s cooling lines, and within minutes of his death, Megatron was at sixty-per-cent fuelling capacity. He’d survive a bit longer, drifting like this. Just a bit longer. Maybe it would make a difference.

And in the emptiness, there wasn’t anywhere else for Megatron’s thoughts to go, and so the darkness crystallised into one core thought.

And it was so dark.

It was just so dark, all of it.

It was all so dark.

**Author's Note:**

> without love there is no meaning.....
> 
> goodnight!! i stayed up all night writing this, god knows why, and now i am going to bed lol ;u;
> 
> thanks for reading


End file.
